


Roses Are Red

by thelouistiti



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: BFF Harry and Perrie, Florist Harry, Fluff, It's All cute, M/M, Photographer Louis, everyone wears makeup because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-24 08:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12008811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelouistiti/pseuds/thelouistiti
Summary: So.Harry’s neighbor is a photographer with pink hair who bakes cookies for his clients.Will he ever be okay again ?“Well Harold,” Louis smirks. “Cookie?”No. But life goes on.***or the one where Harry dreams about writing and Louis is just out there, wearing flower-crowns and being awfully inspiring.





	Roses Are Red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [millionlittletings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/millionlittletings/gifts).



> Hiii, this is my very first time writing in english and I am really nervous about it but I hope you'll enjoy this story (at least a little bit?) ! 
> 
> Thank you so much to millionlittletings for your prompts, I got a bit far from it but hopefully it will still be enjoyable?  
> Thumbs up to wordreference because without it, this story would be full of blank spaces or mixed french words aha. 
> 
> A massive thank you to Edna, who helped me get myself together, cheered me up when I needed it and also beta'ed this! You're a gem, I love you. 
> 
> Finally, thank you so so so much to the mods of this exchange for their patience and kindness, I really appreciate it. 
> 
> Happy reading? x

For the first time in two and a half years, Harry has nothing to do. Nothing! No papers to write, no deadlines, no extra classes. No one is going to bang on his door at three in the morning to beg for his notes, and his inbox won't be full of requirements to meet or important exam dates.

He's free.

He can do anything he wants and – that mere fact is unsettling. It feels too good to be true. He has so much time in his hands, it makes him want to scream. The possibilities are infinite. Harry is conflicted, a battle raging inside his head. There's so many sides of him, all asking for his attention, whispering wants and tentations that he brushed aside for too long, there are his insecurities creeping in the corner of his mind judging his every thoughts, there's his fun side who bangs pots and lights up billboards with 'GET DRUNK' in glittery letters, and the responsible one who lists the pro and cons.

It's a lot. It's too much. The words of his student counsellor are still dancing behind his closed eyelids, confirming that his wish to drop out had been taken into account and that he will just need to print the following forms and send them as soon as he can. The same forms that are now confined in the envelope resting on his torso. Dropping out is such a difficult thing to do for him, Harry feels like something that important should weight more than a light feather, it should be more monumental than a poor piece of paper.

In his email, his course leader never wished him the best or a good continuation and that bothers him so much he feels like crying. Is that not common courtesy? He has no idea why it matters to him but that's the very reason he's still laying on top of his bed, dressed up like he has a funeral to attend and sighing every two seconds.

''H, babe,'' Perrie calls from the kitchen. ''Tea or coffee?''

A smile finds its way on his face without him being able to do anything about it, it's just been too long since he got to hear her voice other than over a phone call or silly social media posts. Harry can hear her singing under her breath about how he's a total idiot who won't ever respond and who's going to do it himself if he goes on.

He missed her so much it hurts.

''Uhhhh, cocoa ?'' he asks, tentative.

Harry's pushing his luck and he knows it. Better get up before a cup of hot chocolate get thrown in his face. Been here, done that and that's not something he wants to experience again anytime soon.

He sits up too fast and his head spins for a moment. The envelope spirals in the air and reaches the floor before he stops seeing stars.

'’You're an idiot Harry Styles, get your shit together.'’ Harry mumbles to himself.

He picks up the paper and shoves it in his back pocket, he'll deal with it later when he feels like it is humanly possible for him. In the meantime, Harry needs breakfast and he needs it quick. That's why he almost throws himself at Perrie's feet when he walks in the kitchen as she is making fried eggs.

God bless the day he decided to spit on his violin to make it shine and got shoved on the ground with a fist in his face. He had grabbed the wrong instrument, the actual owner being a fierce girl with two missing tooth and long blond locks. A detail he found out when he grabbed a handful of her hair to yank at so he could free himself.

''So, are you going to wish me a wonderful morning and get the bacon out the fridge or am I going to have to take you to court to keep your creepy stare off me?'' Perrie asks.

She didn't even take her eyes off the pan. Is his stare that intense or does his best friend actually happen to be a magical being, the world might never know.

''Perrie, darling, light of my life and apple of my eye, good morning !'' Harry says. He plasters himself against her back and hugs her tight, kissing her cheek exaggeratedly. She doesn't even push him away, just settling for an annoyed sigh but her hand finds his and she squeezes it lightly.

The tiny gesture makes him overly emotional and Harry isn't quite ready for tears yet so he detaches himself and flee to the cupboards, opening each of them with a dramatic urge.

''If it's what I asked you to fetch me, you won't find it here babe...'' chuckles Perrie.

Ah, yes. What was he looking for again ?

''What was I looking for again ?''

''Bacon.'' Perrie articulates somehow, the spatula resting in between her teeth as she put the fried eggs in a plate. ''Bring the milk while you're at it.''

Ten minutes and two broken glasses later (potentially, maybe, definitely Harry’s fault), they're sitting around a full english breakfast, the kind he didn't get to eat since Niall's wedding about three years ago. Life can't be that bad when you have a mouth full of baked beans, at least that's what Harry tells himself.

The envelope is burning in his back pocket and Perrie's stare tells him she's not fooled by his glorious smile.

''So,'' Perrie begins after swallowing a gulp of... green smoothie ? ''what brings you here ?''

To his credit, Harry doesn't choke himself on his toast but that's only because he had plenty of time to prepare himself. He's been trying to come up with an eloquent explanation. Too bad he still has no idea how to do it properly.

''What do you mean what brings me here? Can't I just want to see my very best friend in the world who I love dearly ?''

That's it, Harry, buy yourself time. Perrie unimpressed expression is impressive and that itself probably means she's way too cool to be Harry's best friend. She has always been way too cool for Harry but every once in awhile it just hits him in the face. Very, very hard.

Oh, no. It's actually a piece of bread. Good to know.

''Well...um. I, I kind of, uh? Dropped out ?'' Harry blurts out. It's painful. ''Actually it's still not official 'cause, ah, uh, I still have to send this – and yeah.''

He's waving the envelope around quite awkwardly, it's now half crumpled and looking somewhat pitiful.

The thing is, it's not that he's ashamed. Well, he is. But the real issue here is that when he decided that his destiny was to write full length novels and travel the world and write articles about nothing and everything that would be read anywhere in the world, he kind of left all of sudden, abandoning Perrie to her own devices in the process. Now, Perrie is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, she has always been the best at it. But you don't exactly spend thirteen years of your existence living in each other's pocket and disappear overnight.

Harry knows it's a bit too late to feel remorse, he can't go back in time and fix it all but still, he'd really love to.

''I – it was too much Pez.'' and now he feels like crying, again. ''I was all alone, half a world away and, it became too much. There were so many things to do and I had trouble in every fucking class and just,'' that's when his voice breaks, traitor. ''I – I couldn't do it.''

Harry feels a pair of strong arms wrapping around him and Perrie's voice singing 'Cry me a river' in his ear, so he does just that.

It takes some time, but eventually his tears stop flooding and even if he's not exactly feeling like dancing the macarena yet, he's not on the verge of a break down anymore and that's good. What's even better is the cup of hot cocoa that Perrie set down in front of him.

''What's the plan now?'' Perrie asks as she takes the seat right beside his. ''What do you want to do?''

And well, if that ain't the exact problem he's facing.

''I have no idea Pez... I don't know what I want to do with my life anymore.'' Harry sighs. ''It's, I was so hellbent on what I thought was my destiny and how writing was all I wanted to do and now – now I can't even write three lines without feeling like I personally offended both Jane Austen and Oscar Wilde!''

For a few seconds, all that can be heard is the jingling of Perrie's spoon against her tea cup and the annoying tick tock of the clock. His best friend seems lost in her thoughts, eying him like she's choosing her words carefully.

Which is suspicious behavior for her, because Perrie Edwards is a firm believer in ''do it first, think later". 

''You know what ?'' Perrie says. ''You should stay here and – shut up I'm not finished ! So what I was saying is, you should stay and work at the shop with me, not forever, just until you find something else. You won't have to worry about looking for a job and a flat right this moment and we get to spend time with each other.''

That is a very valid argument actually. Harry can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed regardless, it's like he was flying on his own and suddenly has to go back to the nest. Except Perrie is his best friend and he hasn't lived with her since boarding school, and he just knows how fun it is. Bonus points because they won't actually have to sneak into each others rooms and they can officially buy their own booze without having to “borrow” the caretaker's silence.

On the other hand, they're not sixteen anymore. Perrie is a successful woman who doesn't need help from anyone and certainly not from Harry who knows next to nothing about flowers.

''A month.'' he proposes.

Perrie smirks. ''Two months.''

And when has Harry ever refused her anything ?

''Deal.''

And this is how all of this starts. Harry sends the envelope a week later and avoids writing, avoids it like the plague, other than what he needs in his everyday life, like shopping lists, receipts from the delivery service and forms for the shop, a few texts to friends and family, and knock knock jokes he doesn't want to forget. Two months become three, then four and five and the next thing he knows two years have flown by and he's still here.

Not that he's complaining.

Harry is a florist now. Because apparently career change isn't something that sends the world into a frenzy and it's almost offensive how nobody had ever bothered to tell him before.

''H !'' Perrie calls, probably from the backroom. ''Bring me the checklist would you, babe?''

Harry trips over approximately four suitcases and a bag all in the span of two seconds. What a great way to get settled at work again after four weeks on holiday. Wonderful really.

He sighs and shouts that he's fine, thanks for asking, when he hears Perrie letting out her goat laugh which means she probably saw him which means she did not need that check list or worse she already has it which means it was her plan all along.

“Oh sod off'' he grumbles from the floor.

Harry decides to stay right where he is, sprawled on the floor starfish style to protest against unfair treatment by best friends, and also maybe because he's not ready to get up and start working just yet. You can't prove a thing really.

''Ahhh, c'mon big oaf! Get up!'' Perrie says, the smile she's wearing is too big for her face and Harry has just found another reason to protest: His best friend being overjoyed to get back to work definitely shouldn't be an actual thing.

But here she is. Perrie is bouncing around in their little shop, glowing like it's the happiest she has ever been. She looks so at ease, bathing in the afternoon light that creeps through the dirty windows Harry promised he'd clean three months ago. The entire shop is a mess, faded flowers and petals everywhere, dried smoothie Perrie (Harry) spilled in a panic rush about two minutes before hitting the road already thirty minutes behind the schedule. There's also flies everywhere because life is a bitch sometimes.

Maybe also because Perrie's bloody dog decided that this was a good spot to just... defecate. How nice.

Harry has always been a cat person and Miss Perrie Louise Edwards, queen of this land, is allergic to cat. Tsk. As if she couldn't make a tiny sacrifice, honestly.

Maybe Harry is going too far, but whatever really. He's allowed, there's dog shit on his precious floor and probably in his shoes as well, let’s be real here. And he is responsible for cleaning that! So excuse him if he’d rather have a cat.

''Hatchi!'' Harry scolds. ''Bad dog, Hatchi! We do not shit on the floor do we? Outside alright?''

And… Harry’s words meet thin air because Perrie is gushing over her first and only love, prince Hatchi, eighth wonder of this world and Instagram famous with his 3M of followers thank you very much. Great.

''So, we should probably start unpacking and clearing the way since Liam is suppos- Pezza are you even listening to me? Hello? Perrie? ... " He sighs, giving up. "You know what, I'm going for a walk.''

Harry gets up, takes a flower and the rest of his dignity with him and leaves the shop. What was he thinking, of course Perrie would go into a crazy dog lady phase after a month without seeing her Hatchi.

Harry sighs. Well at least he won't be here for the big cleaning, take that Edwards!

Harry rips off the sign covering their shop front, a beautiful photo montage of Perrie and him announcing their holidays to their customers, their faces photoshopped on skinny girls with toned abs posing by the ocean. The holidays are officially over. He tears the flowers petal by petal for good measure, symbolism and all that.

He shakes his head. Bye beaches, bye ice cream every two hours, bye huge vacation house thanks to Perrie's family, parties in the sand, bye beautiful boys in swim trunks, walks in beautiful scenery and perfect weather. They all make place for the shop, their ridiculously tiny flat right above it, flowers all around and having waffles every Tuesday night.

He puts their usual sign back up, a cheerful 'We're open!' in an elegant font and on colorful background, cartoons of Perrie and him doing kissy face or excited poses in the corners. They're dorks, fight them. Or sue them maybe, Perrie's family is better at hiring lawyers than the duo is at fighting for sure.

Harry looks at the shop front for another moment or two, smiling at the emblem hanging proudly on the wall, a stylised bee at the center of a dahlia. He remembers the endless discussions he had with Perrie and Niall during their first summer out of high school. Perrie was opening the shop in September and Harry and Niall were supposed to work at some music management nearby. They each had different ideas about what the emblem should be. Niall was hellbent on the flower being a rose because it would resonate with every customer and their story of its significance, while Perrie wanted something less common, Harry couldn't decide which would be better and cried about five different times over how many beautiful flowers he had no ideas existed.

Harry chuckles to himself, who were they, seriously.

''Hey mate! Care to step aside a bit?'' a man grumbles beside him, a huge ladder resting on his shoulder.

Ah yes, Harry's still standing stupidly in the middle of the pavement.

''Uh, right, right sorry I'll just yeah I'm goi –''

The man glares at him. Harry almost throws himself under a car out of embarrassment. He shouldn't be allowed outside without at least three cups of coffee and common sense. Harry's first instinct is to run away and go cry about his awkwardness to Perrie but she's busy with Hatchi, and he's not actually feeling that dramatic today. He slept more than six hours, thank you very much, he is not going to cry over a mean glare.

That's when the door of the shop opens, and someone jumps on his back. He hopes it's only Perrie and not a murderer who's coming after him.

''Please don't kill me, please! I'm not the rich one, take the girl instead.'' he pretends to cry while jumping around.

Perrie squeals and half strangles him while trying to stay on his back. Self preservation and smart decisions would include stopping his silliness and slowly calming down, However, they're idiots and Harry refuses to surrender. After a few more bumps, Harry loses his balance completely and they end up sprawled on the ground, both of them crying of laughter and running out of breath.

Harry’s relationship with floors is way more intimate than he’d like it to be.

''C'mon, Miss Edwards!'' Harry says, sticking his hand out to help her get back on her feet. ''Let's see if the world has kept turning while we were in paradise!''

''As if it could !'' Perrie smirks.

They walk arm in arm, making small talk and talking about this and that. It's a miracle they still have things to say to each other with the insane amount of time they spend together. Guess the two of them are just a forever thing.

His mind doesn't linger on Niall, whose absence is suspicious, because Perrie starts pestering him about writing and he needs to concentrate on dodging the question.

''So ! Harry, Hazzy, Hazza. Any new... creative stuff ?'' Perrie says.

She never used the w word, smart-ass that she is. He knows he can’t even try to show her the delivery description he did in the car this morning. Harry coughs.

''Uh, I mean no. Not really.'' he sighs. ''I'm not sure about – I mean, it might never evolve into anything, you know?''

He doesn't like to talk about it. The anxiety tied with the mere act of putting his words on paper from his failed attempt at university never quite left him. Perrie knows how he feels, she had enough of his mental breakdowns to deal with everytime he felt the urge to get the words out of his mind and just ended up staring painfully at a blank page.

Harry realizes that they're back in shop's area, a charming little street in the old part of the town.

Perrie opens her mouth to say something but the words never come out, covered by loud bangs ringing out in the entire street making both of them jumps. Harry lifts a questioning eyebrow at Perrie. She shrugs as if to say she has no idea what's going on either.

Harry looks around, looking for the source of noises and his eyes opens wide when he finds it.

''Is – is that ?'' he asks stunned, his voice coming out hoarse.

Perrie nods, equally confused.

''I had no idea it had been sold either.'' she says, her eyes never leaving the scene before them.

The place is buzzing, people coming in and out with various boxes and equipment, there's chatter and laughter all around. Two girls are on ladders, fixing a sign on the facade. A few onlookers like them are just walking around, watching curiously the hustle and bustle. 

''Inked Reflection ?'' Perrie reads out loud. ''Well, that sounds proper cool.''

It is indeed a beautiful sign, Inked Reflection is spelled in capital letters, all sharp angles. A stylized dragon is coming out of the O of reflection and wrapping itself around the words. It doesn't state the nature of the shop and Harry has to confess he's proper curious now.

''Hello ! Looking good doesn't it !''

Harry has never heard that voice before, it's warm and the accent is deliciously exotic. He turns around and is immediately met with the sight of a young man, maybe slightly older than Harry. His demeanor is princely, calm and collected but he’s wearing an excited smile and his eyes are full of cheekiness. Harry hears Perrie's muffled gasp and, oh wow, he has cheekbones.

Harry is the first to recover.

''Yeah, yeah it is ! We weren't expecting something to open here to be honest.'' he answers while gesturing vaguely at the structure.

''I do hope it’s a good surprise,’’ the man laughs. “Zayn Malik, nice to meet you.’’

Zayn immediately extends his hands to shake both Perrie’s and Harry’s. At the same time.

Strange guy, Harry likes him immediately. 

''Is that yours then ?'' Perrie asks, nodding toward the shop. 

Zayn positively beams. ''It is yes ! My mate and I bought it a few weeks ago, we're proper excited about it.''

Conversation floods from here, Zayn talks about the renovations they had to do, he says the shop will actually be a tattoo parlor and a photography studio and how they had some trouble during the signature with the previous owner. Well, well, well. Perrie winces. 

“I suppose it was Mr. Cowell?’’ she enquires. 

Zayn seems surprised but nods. Harry can’t help but laugh, poor guy doesn’t know what he got himself into with that one. 

“Better expect some weekly visits!” Harry grimaces sympathetically. “He likes to know what’s going on in his buildings.” 

“But,” Zayn protest. “It isn’t his anymore!” 

Perrie shakes her head, still laughing. “Go tell him that, I dare you! The man has no conception of what is his and what was once his.” 

They talk some more about the shop, Zayn asks about the neighborhood and then proceeds to gush for a good ten minutes over pictures of Hatchi. Yes, they are at that stage already. Harry hates dog people. 

Beside that, Zayn seems like a decent guy. Harry wonders briefly where is the second owner, Zayn’s mysterious mate (Harry forgot to ask his name) but then it’s late already and he needs his beauty sleep and alone time. Well, as alone as you can be when you’ve got a shoebox for flat. 

''I'll make sure to stop by with the invites for the opening !'' Zayn calls after them when they finally say their goodbyes to come back at the shop and prepare for tomorrow.

***

It's been a week since Perrie and Harry got back to work and Harry is exhausted. They had some trouble with the supply and Hatchi decided to avenge himself by pissing in every flower pots at his reach, that is to say about three quarters of the 'make your own bouquet' section. Life is grand.

He's about to take his break when the front door opens wide, the carillon ringing dramatically. Harry groans, he knows exactly who it is. He closes his eyes, listening to the long steps and breathless laugh.

Three.  
Two.  
One.

''Well if that isn't my favorite florist in the world !'' the dreaded voice exclaims, a typical faux enthusiasm.

Harry is not ready. He turns around.

''Mr. Cowell! My favorite client !'' he forces out.

He hears Perrie breaking something in the kitchen upstairs, he knows she's giving him a way out to go check and let her handle it but Harry has to bite the bullet. He can do it, hopefully the old man is only here to buy his wife flowers and they'll be done with it.

''How's business going ?'' Mr. Cowell begins, then leaning towards the counter and right into Harry's personal space. ''Any new... problems you would have to report to me?''

Harry gulps a little and takes a deep breath. The man smirks before putting the patronizing fake smile on his face again. Breath, Harry, you are the owner not him, you are the owner and he can’t do anything about it.

''All is going great Mr. Cowell. We’re very glad to see our shop develop and couldn’t be happier.'' There’s a pause and Harry carries on immediately. “What can I get you today? We just received some delightful lilacs!” 

Mr. Cowell half grunts and rummages around the different buckets while ignoring Harry magnificently. Two dozen of roses later, a grumbled bye and the man is out of the door. Perrie hurtles down the stairs and throws herself at Harry, almost tripping multiple times in her haste. 

She’s as dramatic as he is. 

''Harry Styles, you did it !'' she screams happily. ''You fucking did it ! This is the best day of my life.''

Harry just shrugs, a shy smile on his face. 

“That wasn’t so difficult, I guess.” He coughs. “Just another regular customer, right?” 

Perrie lets out a loud cackle before shoving him the list of deliveries of the day in his hands and kicking him out not before kissing his cheek multiple times because they are idiotic saps. Harry quite likes doing deliveries, he get to drive a cool little truck full of flowers, he sees lots of people and exchange jokes, small talk and sometimes tea, he can also have time to think about life and peanuts and writing and family and Niall and how he forgot to take out the trash. 

All essentials things.

His last stop is Inked Reflection. He laughs when he sees the order : two dozen of flower crowns. Who would need that many? Are they going to a wedding? Harry wonders if Zayn wears flower crowns. It’s also strange they didn’t directly went to the Flower Bee to get them, it’s literally the house next door. Again, Harry should have checked his list before to establish a smart itinerary but where’s the fun in that right?

Right. 

Harry stops a second, checking himself out in the window display and fixes a curl. Then he takes a deep breath.

''Hello ?'' he calls as he's entering the shop.

Harry looks around, taking notice of the atmosphere but stops almost immediately, can't take another step as he is violently faced with the sight of the most spectacular person in the whole wide world, he is so sure of it. He barely registers the sound of the tinkling bell, too focused on the silhouette a few steps away.

''Hello ! Just give me a minute please, I just have to –'' the man calls from where he's bending over what looks like a... giant bash of cookies ? ''Ah ! Here we are.''

Harry almost gasps. The voice is light and sweet and Harry kinds of want it to sing him to sleep and – oh wait. Is that mystery mate ?

Is mystery mate really so – Oh god, it is mystery mate. Which means, mystery mate is the one who commanded the flower crowns. Oh. Mystery mate wears flower crowns. Harry doesn't have the time to look into the situation properly because the man stands up and smiles at him sweetly because apparently everything he does is sweet and Harry is fucked.

''Hi.'' the man says in a breath.

Their eyes meet and Harry feels like he just entered a spatio-temporal rift. The word blue lights up in capital letters in his head, invading every cell of his body, each thought going inside his brain is painted in blue and soon all Harry can focus on is the stranger in front of him.

Blue. Blue. Blue.

He feels his hand twitch to write everything. Write about the atmosphere, the time that stopped, the small guy in front of him and his hair and eyes and how he exudes sweetness and confidence. The feeling is so habitual that Harry almost forget about the eventual disaster at the other end of it. The failure and the stress. Maybe he should just try aga–

''Um. May I help you ?'' the man asks tentatively but his smile never leave his face.

Oh god, Harry stared the entire time. Still is. Embarrassment floods him and he can feel his cheeks heat up as his brain starts searching for an appropriate answer but nothing comes to him. God he was here for a reason, c'mon Harry. A voice in his head screams for him do something and quick, he has to.

''Oh, uh, hi ! Hi, I am –'' Harry rushes as if it's going to erase his creepy attitude. ''Hi. Uh, I'm your neighbor ? Harry ?''

It could have been worse.

''Are you sure about that or are you asking me ?'' Mystery mate teases, giggling.

Harry is going to faint. He should lower his gaze and stop trying to drown himself in those eyes. He physically can't stop himself and it should be super alarming but the guy seems so genuinely nice. Harry is standing here like an utter and creepy idiot while mystery mate is out there, existing and not kicking him out of his shop, he's even not judging him openly or calling him out on his stupidity.

''I'm Louis,'' the guy offers, sticking his hand for Harry to shake. ''nice to meet you Harry the neighbor !''

Harry has to breath because Louis sounds perfect. Louis, Harry thinks. Louis, Louis. Harry plays with the name in his mind, associating it slowly with the boy. What sounds even more perfect is Harry's name in Louis' mouth. An ounce of common sense comes back to Harry and he could cry of happiness, he's a florist. He delivers flowers, he is here to deliver flower crowns to the shop Inked Reflection.

''I'm, I have flower crowns for you,'' Harry says. ''for the shop, I mean or you. Or the shop. That's kind of the same actually I think. Probably.''

He should shut up, so he does and hands the flowers to Louis. He does it so fast he almost knocks the boy over. Thankfully, Louis lights up as soon as he sees the crowns and doesn't seem to notice Harry's mistake.

''Oh wonderful ! I had no idea how long they would take to arrive !'' Louis exclaims before reaching for the items and begins to carefully spreads them on the counter. He starts mumbling to himself and Harry can do nothing else but watch in awe, it's getting old this amazement phasee he's stuck in really.

Harry thinks it might be time for him to take a step back and go home. That was before Louis decides to pick a flower crown and gently puts it on his head, using the camera of his phone to adjust it. Harry is having strong Peter Pan vibe.

If Peter Pan had tattoos..and pink hair.

Because, yes, Louis has pink hair. Pink as in The Pink Panther as in pink. How come it isn't the first thing he noticed when it is just so blindingly obvious, Harry has no idea. The point is, Harry wants to cry because Louis' hair is pink. Styled in a soft fringe, Harry can also spot some light reflection of gold and purple.

''Marvellous !'' Louis concludes, putting his phone down before sending Harry a stellar smile. ''Do I owe you anything or ?''

Right, business. That, Harry can do, now that he remembers his job that is. This is so embarrassing he can't wait to go to bed and stay here for the rest of eternity.

''No, no ! We already had it from when you made your order with Perrie.'' Harry confirms.

Behind them, the bell rings and breaks the bubble in which Harry was trapped.

''Well, thank you for the delivery and,'' Louis beams. ''I'll see you around I hope !''

Harry mutters his goodbye, taking a step back and then another but he can't quite make himself turn around just yet, not ready to let go of the sight of Peter Pan with pink hair, tattoos and flower crowns.

Turns out, this isn't his smartest idea, but then again, Harry is starting to wondering if he ever have them, when he collides into something. Or someone rather as the something breaths and move and talk.

''Oh, hi Harry !'' a warm voice snorts. Oh god, it's Zayn. ''Such a shame you weren't here for the opening party ! It was a right laugh.''

Oh shit, Harry had forgotten about that episode. The opening party Perrie and him were invited to and he faked an illness so he could write about a cat he saw in the street. So he could fail at writing about a cat he saw in the street more like but.

''Oh, ahaha,'' Harry laughs awkwardly. ''yeah, sorry about that ! I wasn't feeling well and yeah, ah. Well Perrie was here so, all good yeah.''

Too much yeah. Too much everything.

''Anyway, was lovely meeting you two, bye !'' Harry calls behind his shoulder. ''Come by the shop sometimes, yeah ?''

And then he's out. Air rushes back in his lungs.  
That wasn't that bad, was it ?

***

That night Harry spends forty minutes babbling about Louis while Perrie braids his hair and Hatchi destroys his shoes, he also writes two lines on a notebook and a haiku about sunset.

It’s a good night. 

***

 _The summertime, the butterflies  
All belong to your creation_

It’s two lines, nine words and all Harry has been thinking about since he came up with them. He’s sleep deprived, half drunk and over-excited, the words don’t sound bad. Hell, they’re really good. The kind of good Harry has been dreaming of since he started writing again. He knows he shouldn’t be this agitated about it, it’s not even a full poem but at least it’s something. 

He has to do something about it. 

Show it to Louis, something whispers in his head. 

Show it to Louis. 

That’s...stupid, crazy, scary, hilarious, important. 

Show it to Louis.

He plays with the idea in his head, thinking about the pros and cons, possible scenarios, sweet dreams of Louis’ reaction and nightmares of insults and mocking. 

“What would Perrie do?” he breathes to himself. 

Perrie would say fuck it and ask a mariachi band to serenade it directly to the concerned person… which, in Harry’s case, sounds a bit extreme. For sure, just putting it on his doorstep sounds better?

He’s going to do it. Even if it is scary, he has to try. It won’t be like Louis knows who it is from.

Trembling with anticipation, Harry puts on jeans and a dirty shirt, carefully goes downstairs and finds himself in front of Inked Reflection before he knows it. 

It feels like a big deal doing that, putting such a big part of him on display. That’s the first thing he’s sharing with someone since he stopped writing and it isn’t Perrie, it’s someone he met twice and one of those meeting was while taking out the trash. N i c e. 

Maybe the wind will take it away, maybe Zayn will be the one finding it. Maybe. 

Harry slowly places the gift, if that can even be included in that category, and runs away as fast as he can. 

Nevermind that he’s living two feets away. He can almost hear Niall’s teasing, “H is doing the run of shame!”

Which, if not exact, comes pretty close. 

Harry has a million things twirling in his head, so he just runs and runs and runs like he used to do before exams or tests in school. To have a break, to clear his mind a bit, tires himself physically to the point his brain can’t think properly anymore. 

It feels so good.

“There’s nothing I’m running from,” he yells to some judgy ducks swimming coolly as he comes by the pond of a deserted park. “I swear!”

They quack along but Harry isn’t sure if it’s because they believe him or are calling out a lie, they aren’t that expressive yet. He’s probably not drunk enough to tell the difference. He decides do a few more laps, just to be sure he really is worn out before sitting on the little bridge crossing the duck pond.

Harry feels the gentle caress of dawn on his skin, he breathes deeply, his respiration slowly coming back to a usual rhythm. All he can hear is the breeze and small lappings of water.

“Anyway,” he sighs. “life’s weird someti-”

“QUACK”

“Nice quack, mate. Want me to contact a producer or something? ‘M sure there’s something to do for you.”

His phone buzzes, a picture of Perrie and him at last year’s Pride lighting up the screen. 

“Time to go home.” he smiles apologetically to the duck. “Your singing career will take off one day or another, I promise!” 

Blowing kisses to ducks should be a daily activity.

*** 

When friend with Perrie, determination is key and Harry knows it more than anyone. He has been singing Pretty Hurts for a good half an hour when Perrie finally caves and lends him her new lipstick, writes down the address of the ice-cream maker who was at her brother’s wedding and kills Harry with her eyes two times.

“I hate you so much, you have no idea.” Perrie groans, dramatically dropping face first in bed. “I’ll make sure every painful thing in this world will happen to you and then I’ll just-” 

The rest of her malediction gets lost in the pillow and Harry’s mad laugher when he plumps down next to her. 

“Fake news,” he whispers right in her ear before blowing air in it just so he can hear her outraged gasp. “you love me and you’ll love me even more when we can match at Liam’s party and I treat you like the ice-queen you are.” 

He adds an exaggerated wink because he’s drunk on success and didn’t sleep enough. Someone stop him. 

“I see you have no opposition to that statement Miss Edwards,” he states in his best presenter voice. “this decision is now fully approved by the work council of The Flower Bee and its employees !”

“You’re the only employee idiot,’’ she sighs. “but talking about that, we’re opening in less than fifteen minutes ! Why are you still in your pajamas Mister Styles? I’ll have to think twice about giving you that raise…’’ 

“I’m the co-owner of this place!”

“No.” Perrie huffs. “You may be my star employee but I never signe-”

If Harry tickles her until they’re both crying of laughter and late for the opening, then no one has to know. 

*** 

No one has to know. Except Louis. Because Louis is currently waiting by the door, glaring at the drawing full of clocks with their opening hours taped on the window display. 

All Harry can think is : I have a huge crush on you and I put a poem on your doorstep yesterday.

Running upstairs and never coming back so he can’t embarrass himself further seems counterproductive even though the idea is appealing so he just skitters to the door and plasters a smile on his lips, opening the door wide and switching the sign from closed to same old _‘we’re open!’._

“Good morning !” Harry greets, stepping aside so Louis can go inside. 

Louis is dressed in red jeans and lips to match, a flower crown slightly withered adorning his hair. The breath Harry lets out is as sharp as the man’s cheekbones. Louis observes the shop thoroughly, his eyes lingering on every details he can spot. Harry feels like he’s the one under the spotlights that are Louis’ eyes and he has to suppress a shiver. 

“Do you,” Harry begins, willing himself not to stutter. “do you need anything?” 

Harry immediately wants to slaps himself. Did that sound mean? Like he wanted Louis to go? Oh shit, maybe it did. Why couldn’t he come up with professional stuff like a 'may I help you’ or 'welcome, if you need anything I’ll be right there!’? Perhaps Perrie’s ability at cursing is more powerful than he originally thought.

Louis turns around and blinks, Harry watches as a pleasant smile takes place on his face in slow motion and because apparently his life is becoming a romcom, his heart starts racing as well.

“Oh I’m just looking around, didn’t get to see the shop yet.” Louis replies hastily before pausing like he’s thinking better of it and Harry almost misses the way his cheeks colors lightly. “Actually, I wanted to, uh, give you and Perrie a little something?” 

He reaches for his backpack and pulls a lovely box, the pattern full of purple cats riding motorbikes and opens it quietly before handing to Harry.

“I -- are those?” he blurts out.

“Cookies yes,” Louis finishes for him. “I had this shoot yesterday and made too much so I thought I’d share ! Turns out models have a diet and doesn’t eat that much sugary stuff. Who would have thought…” 

So. 

Harry’s neighbor is a photographer with pink hair who bakes cookies for his clients. 

Will he ever be okay again ? 

“Well Harold,” Louis smirks. “Cookie?” 

No. But life goes on.

***  
Life goes on with a bonus 

Louis starts coming everyday to the shop. At first with various excuses, he needs some flowers to decorate the front desk, too much cookies again, anyone has an idea for a themed photoshoot, was just bored, forgot my watch, got scared of a mouse turns out it was just a ball of dust but I need support, flowers are nice, just learned to say hello in japanese… eventually he stops using them altogether. 

Harry thinks that they’re maybe friends.  
He still thinks about all the poems he slipped in Louis’ stuff or pockets over the past few months and sighs. 

Maybe they could be more. 

*** 

Seeing Louis dance is a magical experience, almost a religious one. 

Harry knows he will probably have to disappear at some point because the urge to let it all out will be too strong to ignore. Somewhere quiet where Harry will scribbles down his deepest thoughts and in this case intime desires and maybe let his fantasies come out as well if Louis kept rolling his hips that way.

The basses make the floor trembles, strong beat and catchy lyrics. Flashing lights, sweats, screams and laughter. Harry can spot Perrie in one of the booth, trying out all the angles she can find to Instagram her drink but that’s all he can manage to see before his brain ultimately focuses back on Louis. 

Louis who yells “Come and dance Harold!” over the music. Louis who has stars in his eyes and sparkling boots, rose gold eyeshadow and highlighter to match but what shines the brightest is his smile. Harry’s memory lingers on every souvenir he has of it, shy, cheeky, polite grin or flashing one, excited, almost slipping his face in two, sweet, sarcastic, caring, uncertain, amused smirk, carefree. This one is confident, like Louis could take over the world right this moment and make everyone bow down to him, fulfil every of his wishes, and Harry believes all of it. He’s certain Louis can do it all, probably already is. 

“Will you stop thinking so much and just do something,” Louis’ exasperated voice whispers in his ear and suddenly they’re pressed against each other.

Harry is going to pass out, that’s it. He’s aware of every little cells of his body touching Louis, he feels on fire and is two seconds away from having an existential crisis. 

_dance beneath the stars  
as you drink the night_

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, uh?” 

They’re dancing now, waltzing to an obscure electronic song and that’s such a Louis thing to do. The world blurs and Louis looks painfully clear, flashing lights dancing over his skin, painting in all the colors Harry has been dreaming of. Louis is a prince among his people, one of a kind, unique and precious. All Harry ever wanted.

_spin with the world  
as the magic sinks in_

“Ah!” Harry trips and stomps on his partner’s foot because the universe hates me like that, sending the both of them stumbling against other people. “I - Sorry, sorry. Excuse me, sorry -”

Louis’ laughter echoes in his head as he staggers a little more, only gaining his balance back when Louis catches his hand and guide them through the crowd. All Harry can focus on is the way Louis’ hand dissapears in his, everything else becomes a blur and he’s surprised when he find himself outside.

“Hi,” Louis mutters, a playful smile on his beautiful face. 

A beautiful face that seems dangerously close. As in, really, super, close. His heart speeds increases extraordinary fast and he briefly wonders how far away is the hospital, going in cardiac arrest wouldn’t surprise him. Fuck. 

“H-hi Louis,” he replies, “anything you, uh, need?” 

He just hopes Louis will back away and laugh it off, the tension seems palpable and Harry has no idea how to fix it. He feels desperately on edge, Louis’ smile doesn’t slip away. Something’s happening. 

“So, I’ve been wondering from some time now,” Louis starts, barely above a whisper. “I keep receiving those sweet little papers -” 

A car passes. Louis opens Harry’s palm carefully and places a crumpled paper at the centre of it. 

Harry’s hands tremble slightly as he unfolds it, only to see his own words staring back at him. Great. Here goes the alarm, panic and endless internal screaming. Rationally speaking, Harry knew that there was a possibility that sometime, maybe Louis would know it was him. 

But it wasn’t suppose to happen. Never, ever. 

“I - it - I,” Harry stutters. 

Harry keeps his mouth half open, probably two seconds away from shifting into a fish. He realises that he doesn’t have any justification besides - 

“I really like you.”  
The words escape as if they had a mind of their own and his brain sighs deeply. His heart is just barely beating, waiting for the apocalypse to start any moment. 

“Harr-y, a-” 

That’s when Louis sneezes. Loudly. 

They both explodes of laughter. It’s not even nervous, to Harry’s surprise, it just seems the only natural to do. Harry stops a second before Louis which gives him some time to build a ‘no homo bro’ speech just in case. 

But then Louis’ lips are on his and Harry almost chokes on his spit.  
It’s fast, sweet and just a tad mischievous. 

It feels like Harry is kissing the sun, he actually feels on fire and blessed with such a special light that warms his soul and makes him want to sing and dance and thanks every stars in the sky watching them have the time of their life. 

Eventually, they separate because humans needs air to survive.  
Becoming fishes doesn’t sound like a bad idea after all. 

Forehead to forehead, they’re silent for a minute, savoring the moment together. 

Harry needs a drink, never mind that he doesn’t do alcohol and nevermind each thing about him because he’s a whole new person who gets to know what it feels to kiss Louis Tomlinson. 

Holy shit. 

Louis kissed Harry. Harry kissed Louis.  
They kissed. 

As in… Louis’ lips were in full contact with his lips. 

“So,” Louis begins. “I was right after all, uh?” 

Ah, yes. The poems. Louis has a shit-eating grin on and is already half giggling, Harry feels all his blood rushes to his cheeks which only makes Louis laughs harder. 

“I loved them, for the record.” Louis adds, brushing his thumb over Harry’s hand gently.  
“ ‘M glad,” Harry responds. “wrote all of them thinking about you. I can never get you out of my head.”

Louis smiles brightly. They sit on the pavement and talk about everything they need to talk about, what they should order for breakfast, are smoothies overrated, Louis’ next shoot, their beliefs, dreams and hope, writing, families. They kiss a lot as well, light pecks and passionate kisses. It’s cold and the street lamp a few feets away from them gives up halfway into the conversation but Harry has never felt so happy, his smile threatening to split his face in two.

Harry is resting his face against Louis’ chest, the party is still going on inside but they probably won’t get back to it anytime soon if they way they’re tangled in each other is any indication. He wonders briefly if Perrie is looking for him or if she already knows what’s going on, at this point Harry knows she can’t be an ordinary mortal like the rest of them. 

Louis clears his throat, gaining back his attention. “So, I got a bit carried away but I actually had a little thing prepared to woo you properly.” 

“Is that so,” Harry chuckles, and nudges his nose against Louis’ neck. “Tell me then.” 

“Don’t laugh, I poured my heart and soul into it so careful.” he begins, sitting up straight and turning around to face Harry. 

“Roses are red,  
violets are blue,  
Where do you wanna sit,  
On your lap would be best,  
Thank you.” 

As soon as he’s finished, Louis smirks and kiss Harry so quickly he doesn’t even have the time to kiss back.

“That, was a bit surreal.” Harry admits.  
“Well, the second option was ‘will you marry me’...” Louis giggles.  
“Simple but effective.”

Fireworks explodes high in the sky, people rushes outside and there’s cheering everywhere. Harry feels giddy and on top of the world, his hands find Louis’ and his heart skips a beat when the boy squeezes it lightly.

_i love you  
it’s all I do_

**Author's Note:**

> Let's all have a moment of silence for all the side stories that got cut because I got super late, Niall especially, nothing personal man. Hii! I hope you enjoyed all this? If you did please consider leaving a comment or a lil kudos (you can even reblog the fic post aha), I'd love you forever <3
> 
> Come and say hi on Tumblr, I'm at [thelouistiti !](http://thelouistiti.tumblr.com)


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